Lucioles
by Maze-zen
Summary: Christine misses the open night sky, so the friendly Opera Ghost arranges a little trip. Cover image by the Samsung Mertens!


**Slightly inspired by Owl City's _Fireflies._ Also, that scene from A Room Without a View.**

* * *

Ever Christine was a little girl, travelling the roads with her pappa, she had adored night time. She'd spoken to Erik numerous times about the nights in a field or a clearing, just her and her pappa in the open air under the stars.

Until recently, Erik had regarded it as mere nostalgia; she would reminisce about the innocence of her childhood when her pappa had been alive and they'd been nomads. Back then she hadn't known that they were poor and spent the nights out in the open because they had no money for refuge at an inn. Her pappa had kept her from life's harsh realities as long as he could, but it had made it much harder for Christine when she had to grow up after his death.

Which was why Erik let her indulge in her memories of the open sky very often. He thought it would satisfy her longing; that her longing was for the times that had past.

Then, one evening (when their evening lesson had run late and he'd taken her out by the Rue Scribe entrance, so she could return to her shared apartment with Mamma Valerius faster) he saw her face as she stepped into the night under the stars. The small frown - the perpetual sadness, that seemed to have clung to her ever since he first saw her in the chorus - lifted from her delicate features and her eyes lit up in a way he'd never seen before, not even when she was in musical ecstasy.

He would do anything to see her like that again.

And so, he had purchased a small cabin in the commune of Jumilhac le Grand in the south of France where he knew Christine could reside in peace and even sleep safely under the night sky if she so wished. It was far from Paris, but he would secure her a ticket for the train both ways, as well as a private carriage for the remainder of the trip that couldn't be traveled by train.

The next time there was a break between seasons at the opera, he invited her to stay at the cabin. She was at first overwhelmed by his offer, but only a few days later she accepted. Though on the condition that he traveled with her - for her safety. It wasn't proper for a young, single woman to travel alone, she reasoned, and while he knew it wasn't proper either for a man and a woman to travel together when there was no shared blood or a marriage license between them, he held his tongue and agreed.

They boarded the train in the late evening on July 28th; she'd understood his need to travel when it wasn't daylight. Each had retired almost immediately to their sleeping cabin on board and it wasn't until they reached Limoges, their destination, the next morning that they united again. Despite the promise of discretion, he received stares from the hired valet for their carriage. Erik longed for the days where he had done his travels alone on horseback, away from curious eyes.

None of these things seemed to bother Christine as it did Erik. She was enraptured by the sights around them and confessed in the carriage that she had not managed to sleep much on the train because she'd watched the scenery as it had passed by from her window, illuminated by the full moon. She did the same in the carriage as she talked about everything she saw on their way.

Erik enjoyed her company immensely and found himself sharing details about his past travels that he thought she would like. Conversation made the hours in the carriage fly by and it wasn't long before they arrived.

After they had toured the small cabin, Erik insisted that Christine rested before dinner. Especially if she wished to stay up after the sun set which was quite late at the end of July. She conceded and slept in her private room while Erik made sure that the cabin was prepared and food had been stored as he had requested. He'd hired a local couple to make the arrangements beforehand and they had done well. Everything he and Christine needed for the next four days was here.

He cooked them a small meal which they consumed in pleasant silence. Afterwards, they sat outside on the porch and talked while the crickets chirped and the birds sang. When he brought forth his violin, she smiled brightly and she sang along to the familiar folk tunes he played.

When the sun began to set, he told her that it was safe for her to wander freely here and even sleep outside if she wished. Her face lit up once more and his heart skipped a beat with joy. She bid him a good evening and walked into the field, towards the small forest nearby.

He couldn't help but follow her silently. He, too, had missed the open air. At least that was the excuse he told himself as he trailed after her through the field and into the woods, as far behind her as possible without losing sight of her between the trees.

The full moon's light reached into the black forest, but he would've noticed her regardless. His eyes were used to the dark and the cream summer gown, she was wearing, was easy to spot. She moved dreamily between the trees as she hummed to herself, not aware that he relished how the sounds from her echoed through the forest.

She stopped in a clearing and gasped very audibly. Nervous as to what she'd seen there, he hurried up to the clearing. There, he saw the most magnificent sight, an image more beautiful than any god could have conjured up:

Christine stood in the soft moonlight while a hundred lime green lights fluttered around her. She laughed as she swirled between them, dancing - no, nearly soaring as if she was a part of them. She looked like a fairy, stepped out of her pappa's stories and into reality. _His _reality.

He felt his own mouth widen in the closest thing, he could come to a smile, and let the aching warmth, she caused in his chest, fill him to the brink. He loved her more than anything else. The beauty of her virtue, her strength and her talent had never stood out more clearly, and he found himself overwhelmed by her sublimity to the point where he could not hold back anymore.

* * *

Christine hadn't felt so uninhibited and carefree in years. It had been wonderful to travel with Erik and she found that she had missed life outside of the city more than she had realized. Everything was so peaceful and naturally beautiful. She was eternally grateful for the chance Erik had given her to get away, just for a little while.

She knew none of it was very proper, but she found that she didn't care much. She'd informed her friends that she would be visiting a relative in the country while Mamma Valerius knew that she traveled to Jumilhac le Grand with a friend. Mamma had encouraged the trip, not even asking who the friend was or if it was a woman or a man. Despite Mamma's increasing dementia, Christine was sure that the older woman had chosen not to ask about this friend on purpose; Madame Valerius had never been the type bound by social propriety anyway.

Erik had been nothing but the perfect gentleman. He may not be normal in any sense of the word, but perhaps this was why she relaxed so much in his company. And here, when by themselves, none of it mattered. The only thing, she really took notice of, was how his mask stood out more here where everything was so natural and untouched by human interference. She wondered if his ghastly face would seem more normal when it was them alone in the peaceful nature.

But she didn't dare mention it. He felt vulnerable without his mask, she knew, and she didn't want to make him feel abnormal. So she kept her tongue and simply enjoyed their easy conversations and the music he played for her.

When Erik suggested that she left the cabin to explore the night, she didn't hesitate. She let her instincts lead her as the moon and stars helped her navigate through the field and the dense forest. She felt as if in a trance while creeping through the trees, reminiscing the times her pappa had told her stories of the trolls and fairies that lived in the Swedish forests.

She'd never met any of those creatures; they didn't exist. The last of her childish belief in mythical beings had died when her Angel of Music had proven to be a man in a mask behind a mirror. She didn't blame Erik for it, not anymore, but she missed having those ethereal experiences.

Then she came to a clearing in the forest near the little cabin Erik had brought her to, and suddenly she felt her belief in a fantastic and magical world flare up again.

The air was filled with little lights soaring around her, lighting up the darkness and creating an other-worldly atmosphere that brought tears to Christine's eyes. She could feel the fairies kiss her hair as they flew past her, and they tickled her arms.

She knew, of course, that they weren't fairies. They were eldflugor, or lucioles as the French said. She had only ever read about them - never before seen them. It was beguiling and humbling to experience these small beings that brought such a beautiful light to the darkness.

Christine found herself laughing as she danced through the swarm of fireflies, her skirts whirling around her. Had she ever felt so free? she wondered, regretting that she hadn't brought Erik with her. She realized that she wanted to share this with him and see if he, too, could be carefree like she was now.

It was a pleasant surprise, then, when his tall shadow emerged from the trees. She should've been frightened by the dark, stalking figure walking swiftly towards her, but she knew that figure all too well and there was no fear in her. However, she froze when she saw the intense look in his eyes as he neared her, a fervent look which nearly was enough to alarm her.

An ungloved, spindly hand lifted to her arm and ran up to her shoulder before pulling her closer to him. His other hand, cold as the evening air, touched her cheek with feather-like fingertips. It wasn't until his lips came down on her own that she understood the emotions she'd seen in him; His kiss was filled with such passion and adoration that her heart seemed to scatter into a hundred more fireflies that threatened to burst from her chest.

His hand at her cheek left her, then took hold around her waist and tugged her closer into his gangly body, making her gasp. She lifted a hand to his chest as to push him away, but instead she let it rest there when she felt his heart beat furiously underneath his fine wool clothing.

She responded to the pressure of his lips, pushing back and slanting her mouth over his, making him groan so deeply that she felt the vibrations in his chest. He began to run his silver tongue over the seams of her lips. She enjoyed it, in fact so much that she opened her mouth to do the same to him, but before she had the opportunity, his tongue dipped into the cave of her mouth and explored it. She was embarrassed by the wanton moan that left her, caused by his ministrations, and she pushed away from him, gasping for air.

Around them, the fireflies buzzed. They created a light in a seemingly dark place; they were like magic in a supposedly plain world.

The same could be said about her and Erik. She was the light in his dark life while he was the magic in hers. They gave each other what they had needed for so long, Christine realized, and at that her lips returned to his.


End file.
